


got me feeling like it’s real for sure

by whyyesitscar



Series: oh, it is love [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, listen we were ROBBED of fancy outfits and dancing, spoilers for ep 97
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyyesitscar/pseuds/whyyesitscar
Summary: jester and beau return to the party to collect marion and maybe, possibly, put their fancy clothes to good use.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre & Marion Lavorre | Ruby of the Sea, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Marion Lavorre | Ruby of the Sea & Beauregard Lionett
Series: oh, it is love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663003
Comments: 28
Kudos: 265





	got me feeling like it’s real for sure

_hold on now, this is gettin’ kinda serious;  
_ _this is gettin’ kinda out of control  
_ _(out of control).  
_ _slow down now, breathin’ heavy when it's just a kiss._  
_this is gettin' kinda out of my hands  
_ _(out of my hands)._

/

Beau wonders if this is who she is now, a person who gets itchy when they’re nervous.

She certainly wasn’t as a kid or at the Cobalt Soul. Beau was too angry with her father to ever be nervous, or at least to ever show it, and the monks taught her to channel her energy in more productive ways. And maybe it’s Caduceus’s spell wearing off; maybe it’s the fact that Beau’s felt like she’s ready to pop for weeks now. Maybe it’s just that being with the Nein has loosened her, softened her in ways she wasn’t prepared for. Beau has always been flexible—this group has turned her pliable, formed her into a better version of herself. It’s unsettling to think about sometimes. Ever since she was thrown out, Beau has devoted her time to owning and making herself because that’s all you can rely on, in the end. But now six other people know her secrets; six pairs of hands are perfectly sized to mold her. Beau is stretched between herself and her friends, and surely even that stretch has a limit.

Where will she fall when it snaps?

Beau scratches her elbows until they turn red.

If the itching is just an identity crisis, Caduceus’s spell certainly isn’t helping. The ghost fish disappear as quickly as they showed up, and Beau feels her mind close and tighten with a bang. She blinks quickly, trying to force herself back to equilibrium. But it’s not easy when they’re all cramped below deck, when everything is tense and Essek looks like he either wants to cry or throw himself overboard. Beau can feel the freedom of the spell slip away and suddenly the itching spreads to her scalp, and the walls are too close and the ceiling is too low and her tongue is heavy and thick in her mouth, a gelatinous weight between two dusty lips—

“Beau.”

She flinches away from the finger on her wrist, but relaxes just a little when she sees that it’s Jester. “Hey, Jes,” she says, clipped and thin.

“Are you okay?” Beau can only shake her head. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Hold on.”

Jester’s grip on her wrist tightens and for a terrifying moment, Beau feels herself shrinking, compacting smaller than a grain of sand as pink light flashes around them. Not even a second later she unfolds and they’re standing on the deck of the Ball Eater. A light wind gusts against the back of her neck and Beau closes her eyes. It feels like she’s remembering how to breathe.

“Better?”

“Mhm.”

Jester sweeps her thumb slowly across the back of Beau’s hand, threading their fingers together as she leads them toward the side of the ship. Beau leans her elbows on the heavy wood and hangs her head, letting the wind and gentle spray from the water soothe the back of her neck.

“I should be down there,” she mutters. “This is, like, the perfect time to be a fuckin’ spy.”

“Essek seemed like he was talking pretty freely; I’m sure you can ask him questions later.” Jester slides a hand up Beau’s back, coming to rest on her shoulder. “You can take care of yourself too, Beau.”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes. This night hasn’t gone at all like Beau thought it would, if she had given much thought to it at all. To be honest, she was looking forward to just being at the party with Jester, at least a little bit. Beau never had any fun at fancy parties growing up, but Jester seems to pull fun out of her every chance she gets. Dressing up in outfits they can actually afford and pull off now; bumping shoulders with the wealthy snobs of Nicodranas; dancing while clandestinely spying on a friend-turned-betrayer—it’s a plot straight out of one of Jester’s books.

For once, Beau had hoped to play the hero.

She looks over at Jester, who’s absolutely breathtaking in her dress. The pink plays beautifully off of her skin—then again, what wouldn’t—and for a moment Beau dreams of the party they could have had, the dashing monk and princess of the sea sharing a quiet dance at a crowded gala.

“Sorry we didn’t really get to join the party very much.”

Jester meets her gaze and smiles, mostly sad. “It’s okay, Beau. We can keep the clothes and there will be other parties.”

“Yeah, but—” Beau picks up Jester’s hand, holds it as she rests them both on the railing. “Listen, Jes, I know you wanted this night to be special. You put so much effort into it and—and I just wanted to tell you that I wanted it to be special, too. I’m sorry we both kinda got cheated.”

“You did?”

Beau looks up to find Jester’s eyes shining more than usual, glittering with moonlight and lanterns. “Yeah,” Beau sighs. “Maybe if Caduceus hadn’t done the spell I would have gotten...emotional, or whatever, about it earlier, but.” She gestures to her clothes. “This is a beautiful suit, Jes. This is the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten—really the only gift I’ve _ever_ gotten—and you went out and picked it out just for me. No one’s ever—well. The night was already special, I guess,” Beau shrugs. “I was just really looking forward to really leaning into that, you know?”

Jester tugs on Beau’s hand until they’re hugging, her cheek squished against Beau’s chest. The chiffon of her skirt rustles around Beau’s knees and she smells wonderful and more than anything, Beau feels like they just fit.

“I’m glad you like it, Beau,” Jester mumbles. “Thank you for telling me.”

“‘Course, Jes. I’m glad I got to wear it even just a little bit. The night was really shaping up to be something.”

Jester nods. “I know, even Mama sounded—oh my _gosh_ , Beau!”

“What?”

“We forgot Mama! We asked her to come to the party and then we just left her there; oh my _gosh_ …”

Beau rubs her hands up and down Jester’s arms. “It’s cool, Jes; don’t worry. We’ll go back and get her; these guys have it handled down there. You have some spells left, yeah?”

“I do, but the palace is too far away to get all the way there.”

“Well, we could always walk until we’re in range.” Beau offers her arm and bows at the waist, the way she’d watched so many dignitaries do as a kid. “A lady of repute always needs an escort,” she smiles.

Jester blushes and grabs hold, her dress swishing as they walk off the boat together.

The docks are quiet at night, and they only pass a few people on their way back—companions laughing, full of drink and friendship; lovers muttering softly to each other, strolling slowly and savoring the night. Beau can’t speak for Jester, but she feels like they’re walking somewhere in between.

“I think she’ll be fine,” she says. “It’s not like we left a huge commotion on our way out; the party is probably still going without a hitch.”

“It’s not just that, Beau,” Jester snaps. “You don’t know how hard it is for her to be around a lot of people or even outside. This is the first time I really asked her to leave the Chateau, and I abandoned her, like, right away.”

“No, Jes, I—” Beau swallows as much defensiveness as she can. “You’re right, I don’t know. I’m sorry; I meant that we didn’t leave her in any danger, but it came out wrong.”

“Okay.” Jester squeezes closer and lays her head on Beau’s shoulder for just a moment, lifting again when it becomes clear that the pose is too awkward to sustain while walking. “Thank you for coming back with me.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Beau takes a deep breath. She hopes Jester will forget to do the spell when they get close enough because the night is starting to become magical again. This is pretty much the only time Beau has ever worn formal clothes without feeling stifled, and she’s pretty sure it’s not because of the clothes (as lovely as they are).

“What would you have wanted to do tonight, if the whole Essek thing didn’t happen?”

Jester brightens as she considers the question. “Oh, man. I would have danced with _everyone_ , unless they were super creepy or weird. I know Caleb’s a good dancer, I think I could have convinced him. Fjord probably has two left feet, unfortunately.”

“Yeah,” Beau chuckles. “Plus the hat might get in the way.”

“In the way of his feet?”

“Oh, no; I mean, you know, just depending on how close you wanted to dance, I guess,” Beau stammers.

“What about you, Beau?” Jester teases. She pokes playfully at the inside of Beau’s elbow. “Are you a good dancer?”

Beau blushes. “Uhhh….”

“I bet you are.” Jester sounds decisive as she stops. Beau would never admit to the swooping feeling in her stomach, but. It’s there. “I think we’re close enough,” Jester says, craning her neck to make sure. “Do we want to just pop inside?”

“Maybe not. I may have made a, uh, _small_ commotion under that spell. Why don’t we land just outside? There’s a window off to the side that we could peek in before we go in.”

“That sounds good.” Jester slides her hand down Beau’s arm and clasps her hand. The constricting pull of the spell isn’t as bad now that Beau can prepare for it, and her heart is calmer as they materialize outside of the manor, out of eyesight of any guards.

/

It takes almost half an hour for Marion to realize Jester and her friends are missing.

She saw them briefly during her performance, enjoying themselves and mingling amongst the rest of the guests, some with a more scrutinizing eye than others. Marion always feels safe when Jester’s around; it was a pleasant surprise to realize she’s extended that feeling to the rest of the group. She supposes anyone who can protect her daughter for almost a year can protect her as well.

She makes conversations with some of her former clients and admirers. The Ruby of the Sea is always an excellent party guest, never lingering more than she’s wanted and always making sure to pay equal attention to those around her. But the noise of the crowd crescendos the longer the night goes on, and The Ruby fades away as Marion emerges. She orders a drink to calm her nerves—weak, just a passable amount of liquor—and sits at the bar for a few minutes, formulating a plan that doesn’t involve just hoping Jester will come back.

Of course, Marion’s faith in Jester seems to be rewarded more often than not. She nurses the last of her drink and looks out of the window on the far wall as a faint snap crackles in the night. Their shapes are blurry through the colorful glass, but Beau and Jester emerge seemingly from nowhere, smoothing their clothes and surveying the area around them.

Marion smiles and gets up, weaving through the crowd to find Lord Uludan, who is in the middle of a story when she gets near.

She would have waited for him to finish, but the conversation stops when she’s spotted. Lord Uludan and everyone around him seem happy to see her, or perhaps they’re just enchanted by her reputation.

Lord Uludan smiles. “Ms. Lavorre, I’m honored you could make it to the party; I understand you’re very selective about the events you attend.”

“I had a feeling it would be an enchanting evening,” Marion says, returning the smile, “and I certainly wasn’t disappointed.”

“Would you care to join us?”

“Unfortunately, I must retire soon,” Marion deflects. “But if you don’t object, I could be coaxed into an encore.”

“Of course! Allow me a few moments while I find the band again.”

Marion excuses herself from the group as he walks off. She assesses the main floor, trying to find the best place to position herself.

Musicians are brought out moments later and rearrange themselves behind her. The crowd quiets down as they realize they’re being treated to another performance.

Marion shifts two steps to her left, trains her gaze on the stained glass window, and begins to sing.

/

“Okay, we could scope shit out from here for a few minutes if you want.” Beau looks through the window to see if she can get a better angle, but everything inside just looks foggy and purple. “Damn, I wish I had that spell now.”

“It let you see through walls?”

“Oh.” Beau furrows her brows. “No, I guess not. Maybe that was just the trip.”

“You were pretty gone,” Jester smiles. “I kinda wish I could have seen more of it.”

“Maybe another time, when we can have fun and I’m not wasting an opportunity to be useful.”

“Beau—”

Beau tilts her ear upwards to hear better. “Anyway, it sounds like everyone’s having fun in there. Dancing too, looks like.”

“Are they?” Jester tips up on her toes to look in the window. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Mama’s singing,” Jester answers. “She’s okay.” She seems to relax, her shoulders loosening as she lets out a long breath. “I love this song,” she sighs.

Beau feels the space between them spark as a choice arises, one that she only has a few moments to make. “Do you—” She clears her throat. “We could...go in.”

Jester turns to look at her, once again seemingly on the verge of tears. “The dragonborn guy is back,” she murmurs. “He might rat on you if he sees us.”

“Oh. Sure. Okay.” Beau kicks at the ground, her cheeks flushing. “Some other time, then.”

She doesn’t see Jester step forward, doesn’t realize how close they’ve gotten until one of Jester’s hands is in hers, the other resting on her shoulder. Jester tips her chin up and smiles, soft and small.

“We don’t have to go inside,” she whispers.

“Right, yeah. Totally.” Beau shakes the fog of music and magic from her eyes as she places her hand on Jester’s waist. “I don’t know how to lead,” she admits. “I only ever learned the girl’s part.”

“You’re a fast learner,” Jester smiles. Then she moves, and Beau is a goner.

Jester is right; she only stumbles a little at the beginning. Beau spends most of the dance apologizing and looking down at her feet, willing them to do the steps she knows only backwards. By the time she gets the hang of it, the song is almost over.

“Sorry,” she says again. “I’ll get it next time.” She lets Jester go but Jester doesn’t move.

She simply waits and grins, putting Beau’s hand back on her waist as Marion starts to sing again. “Mama never just does one song for an encore,” she explains.

Beau is smoother this time, perhaps helped by the song. It’s slower than the first one, haunting and aching in a language Beau doesn’t recognize.

“I don’t know this one.”

“It’s a sailor song,” Jester says. “One they’d sing when the sea was still at night and they missed their loves. It’s a song made for moonlight and yearning.” Jester coughs and a blush creeps up her neck. “That’s what Mama used to say, anyway.”

“Maybe we should teach it to Fjord.”

“Why? Who does he have to miss?”

Jester spins out of Beau’s grasp, tethered by just one hand. She glitters under the stars—Beau is entranced and almost surprised that she comes back. Her hand instinctively goes back to Jester’s waist and they feel even closer than before. Jester’s fingers, always so cool to the touch, are warm in Beau’s palm. The longer Jester looks at her, the less Beau knows what to do.

“Jes, I—”

“Don’t,” Jester whispers. “Just dance.”

Beau nods and shuts her mouth, focusing on the closeness of Jester—her soft skin, her bright eyes and delicate hair. Jester always looks beautiful but tonight she’s so radiant that Beau physically hurts. There is an ache in her chest, a deep cavern that burrows further with every step. Beau finds it impossible to look away from Jester; she mines every ounce of willpower she has to fight the urge to place her hand on Jester’s cheek. They dance closer and closer, swaying until their hips are touching as much as they can between layers of fabric, and Beau knows her secret’s out. She knows how she’s looking at Jester, how the love she feels is rising in her chest and spilling out of her eyes.

Beau can only hear Marion singing from a distance, as if she and Jester are trapped in their own private bubble. Beau imagines the walls closing in, pressing them closer together as the rest of the world falls away. She wonders what might happen then; where her imagination might travel if Jester would let it. Beau feels longing swell to match the violins, and her chest is filled with hope—her heart, with Jester.

Jester guides them to a stop as the music fades out and the applause begins, deafening as it invades their sanctuary. Beau is surprised to see that Jester is breathing heavily, that she doesn’t release Beau’s grip.

Beau waits and watches, looks for uncertainty and finds only love.

She tilts Jester’s chin with a finger and leans down toward her lips.

They might as well still be dancing for all she knows. Jester breathes in sharply and melts in Beau’s arms. Beau catches her, supports her with a sweeping arm across her back. She squeezes Jester’s hand tighter in hers as they kiss, mouths moving slow and patient. Beau kisses Jester so she can understand what it is to be loved, to be everything.

They pull away after a lifetime. Beau rests her forehead against Jester’s, closes her eyes and waits, unmoving, until her heart rate calms down. “I’m sorry, Jes,” she breathes. “For how I’ve been lately.”

Jester steps back, takes Beau’s cheeks in her hands and kisses her once more. “It’s not okay,” she says, her eyes wet and sparkling, “but I think maybe I understand a little bit of it now.”

Beau laughs and nods, eyes welling with tears of her own. “Yeah, that was, um. A lot. To hold onto.”

“Well.” Jester licks her lips. “Maybe you can let all of this out now and we can talk about the other stuff later.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Beau trails a finger over one of Jester’s perfectly shaped eyebrows, tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. She wipes away a tear as it slides down Jester’s cheek, smiles when Jester does the same for her.

“I love you,” Beau whispers.

Jester presses her lips together and nods quickly, sniffing back another wave of tears. “I love you, too,” she echoes. Jester tips up to kiss her and Beau thinks that maybe she knows what it’s like to feel loved now, too. It’s her turn to melt, and she does so with pleasure.

They laugh as they pull apart. Jester swings their hands together and Beau immediately feels a thousand pounds lighter, relieved of her burden and buoyed by the fact that Jester returns her feelings.

“Let’s go get your mom,” she suggests.

“Oh, yeah! At least we won’t have to spend a bunch of time looking for her.”

They don’t spend any time at all, it turns out. Marion is waiting for them at the front gate, a knowing look in her eye before she even sees their joined hands.

“You’ve returned,” she says, smiling.

Jester blushes, suddenly coy and shy. “Hi, Mama. I’m sorry we left you.”

“It’s alright, my sapphire.” She bids goodnight to the few guests still lingering by the door, and loops her arm around Jester’s. Jester hangs onto Beau’s hand and they all walk away together. A sense of belonging and acceptance blossoms in Beau’s chest like it never has before—she thinks maybe the Lavorre women are some of the best ever created. Knowing a life with them, Beau would never want to imagine one without.

“You two looked like you could use some fresh air.”

“Oh, we were—actually, we’ve basically been outside this whole time,” Jester stammers. “Maybe you just didn’t see us.”

“My mistake,” Marion says. “I must have missed that.”

But she winks when Beau glances over. She’ll have to remember to thank Marion later.

“Did you have fun, Mama?”

Marion tilts her head, thinking. “I did,” she eventually says, “though I think I’ll have to wait a while before attending another party.”

“Of course,” Jester nods. Beau feels herself pulled a little closer as Jester squeezes tight to Marion’s arm. “I’m really proud of you, Mama.”

Marion blushes, though Beau can hardly see it against her skin. “Thank you, Jester.” She squeezes back, gives both of them a once-over. “Both of you look wonderful,” she smiles. “You are quite a vision together.”

“Are you kidding?” Beau blurts. “Right back at you.”

Jester giggles and bumps Beau’s shoulder. “Beau…”

“What? Jes, you have to know your mom’s, like, painfully gorgeous.”

“Am I?” Marion smirks.

“Uhhh, you know, that was a hell of a spell Caduceus cast,” Beau splutters. “Might still be feeling the aftereffects or something, getting a little loopy, or—there’s really only one woman for me,” she finishes lamely.

Marion’s eyes twinkle mischievously. “I’m glad to hear it.”

They pass the rest of the short walk in relative silence; every so often, Jester says something quiet to make Marion laugh. Beau lets them have their time, preferring instead to bask in the peaceful city around them, relishing the comfort of Jester’s hand in hers.

It isn’t long before they’re at the Lavish Chateau. Marion stops at the foot of the stairs, placing her hands on one shoulder each. “I’m happy for you both,” she grins, “and I’m very glad I came out tonight. Thank you.”

Beau lets go as Jester surges forward to hug Marion, wrapping both arms tight around her waist. Barely a moment later, Marion pulls Beau in as well, a quick embrace that definitely doesn’t make Beau blush.

“Go upstairs,” Marion urges. “I’ll wait for your friends.”

Jester kisses Marion on the cheek and Beau waves her thanks. They walk to Jester’s room in silence, even closing the door as softly as they can. Jester folds her arms behind her and leans against it, smiling at Beau.

She doesn’t even need the hint, really.

Beau strides forward and presses herself against Jester, stabilizing herself with a hand against the door as Jester pulls her in by the lapels. They forgo tenderness for lust and heat, kissing and unfurling their mouths against each other. Beau opens Jester up, bunching her dress as she threads a leg between Jester’s. Her neck flushes at the sound of Jester’s sighs. She can hear nothing, feel nothing and smell nothing and taste nothing but Jester.

Their bubble is back, a hazy red instead of Jester’s signature pink.

Perhaps it can be soundproof, this time.

//

Marion doesn’t wait after all. She checks in with Carlos and Tyral, ensuring that the night has gone smoothly, and sets off to find her trusted bodyguard.

He is patrolling the back of the building, no doubt in the middle of a sweep that she assures him is not necessary to make as often as he does it. He stops walking and straightens as soon as he sees her.

“Bluud, Jester and Beauregard are upstairs at the moment. It would be...unwise if anyone were to disturb them.”

“Of course, Ms. Lavorre,” he nods. His voice is deep and rumbling in a way that always makes Marion smile. “I’ll wait for the others.”

“Thank you. I’m retiring for the night as well.”

She glides upstairs, walking with softer steps as she approaches Jester’s bedroom. Marion smiles, and, with a muttered command and a flick of her wrist, makes all the lanterns and torches within range flare. She laughs to herself as something thuds behind Jester’s door, followed by a string of cursing that would make any sailor proud.

Perhaps she’s a little biased, but—Marion has rarely known two people more deserving of a little rest and even more magic. She knows very well how passion overwhelms, enveloping its lovers in private caresses and hushed promises.

Night washes over the Chateau, peaceful and undisturbed.

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone out there ever wanted to draw a scene from one of my fics, this would be the one to pick. 
> 
> title + lyrics from "favorite color" by carly rae jepsen, which i will _certainly_ be using for another fic or two down the road.
> 
> thanks for reading, let me know if you enjoyed!


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